


Spaghettios

by Janissa11



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-21
Updated: 2009-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-03 12:31:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janissa11/pseuds/Janissa11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where wee!Sam and wee!Dean - unbeknownst to John - feed the little kitten that's been living behind the motel where they're staying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spaghettios

It was all Sammy's idea. That's Dean's excuse and he's sticking with it.

Never mind that it's Dean who decides Spaghettios are probably not the best food for a growing kitten.

"Protein, dude. He's gonna get all runty without meat."

"Skettios got meat in 'em," Sam says, looking at Dean with big eyes. "S'okay for us, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but we're o -- Om -- We can eat whatever we want. He can't." Dean rummages in his backpack and brings out his sandwich. "Here."

The kitten attacks the ham, making little smacking sounds. Sammy looks impressed.

"Sammy." Dean squats down, stares until Sammy meets his eyes. "We can't take the kitten with us. You know that, dude. Right?"

Sammy's lower lip gets suspiciously wobbly. "He's real little," he says. "I can split my food with him. He won't --"

"Aw, man. You told me you understood this." Dean sits down heavily, trying not to watch the kitten OR Sam's wobbly lip. Or see the tears already starting. "Think about the cat, okay? Is he gonna like living in the car most of the time? Cats, they like to run around, you know? Do their thing. It just -- won't work, Sammy, no way."

He's staring out at the parking lot, wondering if Dad's gonna come back early and totally bust them, when he feels something scratchy and wet on his hand. The kitten blinks up at him, and then nudges his hand again -- more ham, please sir can I have some more -- and Dean swallows and whispers, "This was a really bad idea."

Dad doesn't come back early, though. The kitten makes the rest of the ham and a whole hot dog disappear before he climbs up in Dean's lap, purring so loud Dean's surprised the row of motel windows don't rattle. Sammy looks pleased.

"He likes you! See?"

"Yeah, 'cuz he knows a meal ticket when he sees it," Dean mutters, but does not say that the kitten's warm and purring and comfortable in his lap, paws making biscuits on his thigh.

"You like him, too," Sammy announces. When Dean glares at him the wobbly almost-crying look is gone. Sammy beams. "Don't you?"

"Whatever."

* * *

Dad comes back late and leaves early, before Sammy's even awake. Dean half-listens to the usual list of do thises and don't do thats, nods at the right places, and thinks about where the kitten slept last night. If he was safe. There's dogs around, and that kitten would make a single mouthful.

After Dad's gone he goes to the bed and shakes Sammy's shoulder. "Wake up. Dude, wake up."

Sammy squints in the lamp light, reaches up to rub his eyes. "Dee. Time for school?"

"No, dumbass, just listen."

Sammy looks halfway alert, gazing up at him. "Izzit the kitten?"

Dean draws a deep breath. "We gotta find him somebody to take care of him."

"But we're doing that."

"No, Sammy, I mean like, a place where he can live all the time. Because he can't come with us. Okay?"

Sammy's lips pull down in a frown. "But we could --"

"Dude, listen to me. You know the deal, you know Dad would freak. But we can find him a real home. Just gotta ask around, that's all. Scope it out, find somebody that needs a kitten. Gotta be somebody."

"But WE need one," Sammy whispers.

"We got each other, that's all we need. Remember?"

Sammy nods, but doesn't look any happier. Dean doesn't tell him he doesn't much buy it, either.

* * *

He ditches school to house-hunt for the kitten. Sammy goes to class, complaining the whole time, which is weird because Sammy totally digs school usually. But this time he's pulling out all the stops, tears and stuff, and Dean feels like the world's biggest creep while he says, "No discussions, dude. Get your butt in gear."

With Sammy safely stashed at school, Dean hurries back to the motel. This town doesn't appear to have anybody like a truant officer, but he's careful anyway, sneaks back down the alley and climbs the fence.

The kitten is waiting by their door, bright eyes blinking up at him. "Dude," Dean whispers, squatting down to run his hand over the soft baby fur. "We gotta find you a home."

The kitten purrs, butting his head against Dean's ankle.

There aren't many other people staying at the motel, and none of them look like kitten people. The kitten's riding in Dean's coat pocket, warm little body against his hip, and he keeps on petting him while he whispers, "Gotta expand the perimeter is all. Don't worry."

By noon he's found a couple of folks who think the kitten is the cutest thing ever but no thanks I can't have a pet in my apartment, and several more who just kinda roll their eyes and ignore him, and a whole lot of doors that nobody answers. Probably at work, whatever. Dean's feet are tired and he's hungry, and he's pretty sure the kitten's hungry, too, so he trudges back to the motel and gets out the package of sandwich ham. He and the kitten gobble it down, sandwich for Dean and just the filling for the cat. Then he sits in the sun out behind the motel and lets the kitten lounge in his lap, licking its paws and purring.

"Somebody wants you," Dean tells the kitten, feeling an ache in his throat like he's getting sick. Stupid Sammy, wanting to feed the stupid kitten. Dean TOLD him it was a rotten idea. "We just gotta keep looking. That's all."

The kitten gazes up at him, purring, and Dean swallows hard.

* * *

When he goes to pick up Sammy, he already knows the first thing the kid'll say.

"Did you find somebody? Is he okay?"

Dean grasps Sammy's hand and keeps eyes forward. "Not yet. He's fine, shut up."

"Did you feed him? S'posed to get meat to eat, 'member?"

"He got more to eat than I did," Dean mutters.

"Didja find --"

"We just gotta keep looking, that's all. No big deal."

"Okay." But Sammy's eyes are wide and troubled, and his hand grips Dean's hard while they walk home.

When Dad comes back that night he says, "Guess we're about to pull up stakes, boys. Next couple of days. Need you to start packing up your gear."

While Dad messes around with supper in the kitchenette Sammy whispers, "What are we gonna do, Dean?"

Dean shrugs. "It'll work out, Sammy. Don't worry."

But the next morning Dad takes them both to school, and it's lunchtime before Dean can make his escape, sneaking out the side door and hurrying. He has to call for the kitten, and finally after he's got this funny cold feeling in his stomach he hears its little meow, sees it galloping over to him. He drops to his knees, cradles the kitten to his chest and feels his eyes stinging. "Stupid cat," he whispers, swallowing hard. "Stupid Sammy. Should never."

The kitten licks his chin and purrs, and Dean wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

* * *

He's still sitting there, the kitten fast asleep in his lap and Dean almost asleep, too, when a shadow covers the sun. He flinches, and the lady says, "It's okay. Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Dean sidles back, the kitten's claws holding onto his jeans. "Something the matter?"

She has a nice face, real short hair, short as Dad's. She shakes her head. "That's a pretty kitten. Is she yours?"

"Nah. Just, you know. Around. He's a boy."

"Ah. What's your name?"

Dean scrambles to his feet, holding the kitten against his chest. "I know I was s'posed to be in school and I was, honest, but we're gonna leave and I had -- Sammy -- I had to help."

The lady's shaking her head, smiling that kind smile. It makes her look kinda pretty. "It's okay. I promise. Say -- You know, I came over here just to check on the cats. I volunteer for a group that helps out with feral cats."

Dean looks at her. "What's feral?"

"Well, cats that are born and grow up without people, pretty much. They're more wild than domesticated. Cats like your cat there."

"He isn't wild. He's really tame."

She gives a laugh. "I see that."

Dean bites his lip, and then whispers, "Promised Sammy I'd find somebody to keep him. Sammy's m'brother. But I didn't. Nobody wants him."

Her smile is gone. She looks kind of sad, but she nods. "That's what the group I volunteer for does. They find homes for kittens like yours."

"You're gonna just take him and kill him. That's what my dad said. He said people like you round up the strays and euphamize 'em."

"No. No, we don't do that. That happens sometimes, with the city shelter, but my group -- we don't kill the animals, I promise. We take care of them, and we work really hard to find them a place to live."

He glares up at her. "You promise?"

He really does like her smile. She's really pretty when she smiles. "I promise," she says.

He believes her. He wonders what Dad would say to that. "Are you gonna take him away?"

"If you'll let me. He needs to get some shots, and get checked out by the vet. And then I'm going to find one of our other volunteers to take care of him until we find him a forever home. Is that okay?"

"I guess. But you gotta wait for Sammy."

"Sammy's your brother, right?"

Dean nods. "The kitten's his fault, see. He was the one wanted to feed him and stuff."

Her eyes are pretty, too. "Looks to me like you've been taking care of him just as much as Sammy. Maybe more."

"S'what big brothers do."

"I guess so," she says. "I guess you're right."

* * *

The lady's supposed to come back at 3:30. That gives Dean enough time to go get Sammy and come back before she gets there, and way before Dad gets back.

"Is she gonna be nice to him?" Sammy asks. He clings hard to Dean's hand, his fingers sweaty.

"She's cool," Dean says. "She's gonna take him to the vet and stuff."

"Is that like going to the doctor?"

"Yep. He's gotta get shots."

"Don't like shots."

"Me neither. But you gotta."

"Guess so."

The kitten's right there waiting, like he knows their schedule or something, and Dean goes in to get a hot dog for him while Sammy pets him. When he gets out the lady's back, and Sammy's watching her with wide eyes.

"Hi," she says when she sees him. "You told me Sammy's name, but you never told me yours."

"Dean," he mumbles, and pulls a piece off the hot dog, feeding it to the kitten in Sammy's arms.

"You boys have taken really good care of this kitten. That's really nice, what you've done. You're sure you don't want to keep him?"

"I wanna keep him!" Sammy says, eyes on Dean's face. "Please?"

The middle of Dean's chest hurts, and his throat too. "Can't," he says. "We gotta leave soon. You know that, dude."

Sammy slumps. "Not fair," he whispers.

It doesn't feel fair to Dean, either. He shrugs, can't think of anything else to say.

"Tell you what." The lady leans down so she can look close at both of them. "Did you pick out a name for him yet?"

"Roscoe!" Sammy says. "That's his name!"

"Roscoe's a dumb name," Dean says, but not really loud.

"I like it," Sammy tells him.

"Whatever. Roscoe."

The lady nods. "Okay, then here's the deal. That's gonna be his name from now on, okay? The vet'll put that down as his name, and when I find somebody who'll give him a good home, I'll tell them, 'His name is Roscoe. Sammy and Dean told me.' How's that sound?"

It's pretty hard to swallow, and when Dean looks at Sammy there are tears all over his face. He needs a tissue for his nose, too. "P-promise? Promise they'll be nice to him?"

"Oh, honey," she says. "I promise. They'll be really nice. Everyone will be."

Sammy's bawling now, kinda squishing the kitten, and Dean pats Sammy's hair and says, "He likes ham. And hot dogs."

"Okay. I'll remember that."

"But he doesn't like Spaghettios very much."

She gives him a grave nod. "I promise, I'll remember, Dean."

"Kay."

Sammy howls when the lady takes Roscoe out of his arms. Dean hugs him, feels Sammy's arms around his waist, tears hot and soaking through his shirt. The lady holds Roscoe just like Dean does, and smiles at him. "He'll be fine, Dean," she says, giving him another of those pretty smiles. "I promise."

Dean nods, and pulls Sammy back in the direction of the motel room. Inside, he sits on the chair, smelling Sammy's hair, that familiar Sammy smell, while Sammy cries.

"It's okay, dude," Dean tries to say, except his throat really does hurt now. "See, he'll be okay, and you know we couldn't have a cat. Just -- not for us, okay?"

"I muh-MISS him," Sammy wails.

"Me, too," Dean whispers.

When Dad gets back he knows something's up. "You'll like the next school just fine," he says to Sammy, and Dean knows he thinks Sammy's been crying because they're leaving, doesn't know about Roscoe.

"Next time," Dean says in a low voice when he's helping Sammy with his pajamas, "no feeding the stupid kittens. Okay?"

Sammy's eyes are all puffy from crying, and he won't look at Dean.

He gives Sammy a little shake. "Okay?"

"All right!" Sammy says, pulling away from him. "Leave me alone!"

Later, when all the lights are out and even Dad's gone to sleep, Dean can feel Sammy shaking like he's crying again. When Dean touches Sammy's back he rolls over and curls into Dean's arms, crying silently and hard. Dean sighs and says, "It's okay, Sammy. You got me and Dad, okay? That's all you need. All any of us needs. We got each other."

Sammy doesn't reply. And Dean holds him tight, stares up at the dark ceiling and doesn't cry. Just a stupid cat. No big deal, really. He'll be fine.

But when Dad calls reveille the next morning Dean's eyes burn from lack of sleep. He shakes Sammy's shoulder and says, "Up and at 'em, dude." And he doesn't think about the kitten, or the ham sandwiches they shared, or how that little body felt purring against his own.

Kittens are for other people. They're just fine without them.

Besides, it was all Sammy's idea.

 

****

END


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